


Turn and Face the Stranger

by msraven



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A little angst with a happy ending, First Time, Get Together, M/M, actual communication, still mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Guilt fucking sucks,” Clint agrees, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.  “You realize this wasn’t one sided, right?  You turned your back, but I’m the one who walked away.”</p><p>Phil raises a skeptical eyebrow.  “You really think you could have gone anywhere if I hadn’t wanted you to?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn and Face the Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Changes" by David Bowie.

Phil changes after the Battle of Manhattan. He and the SHIELD psychiatrists agree that this is a good thing. After all, coming back from the dead _should_ mess with your psyche a bit - assuming it was normal prior to the dying part. The changes, in Phil's view, aren't large. He still spends too much time at work, his badass status rising after facing off against a god, and his works persona remains absolutely impenetrable. 

What changes is that Phil is looser, more relaxed around his co-workers, more likely to speak the joke in his head instead of just hinting at it with a small smirk. He's more confident with his place in life and in SHIELD - having already made the ultimate sacrifice and miraculously surviving - so showing a little more emotion, more of himself feels a lot less risky than it did before. 

The Battle of Manhattan changes Phil for the better, but it takes a long time for him to realize exactly how much he lost because of it.

~^~

Barton changes after the Battle of Manhattan and Phil does nothing to stop it. Hawkeye withdraws from everyone at SHIELD except Natasha and Fury, his raucous laughter and well-meaning pranks no longer commonplace at HQ. Phil is embarrassed to feel relief when he receives the automated notification that Barton is no longer a SHIELD asset.

They were friends before the collapse of Pegasus, a closeness forged by years of ops together as a duo or as part of a team. They've never spoken since Phil's return from the dead - no accusations, no condemnations, just nothing where there was once comfort and camaraderie. Barton is the one subject that Phil absolutely refuses to talk about in the endless hours of therapy that follow his recovery. 

Phil tries not to hear about how Barton now lives at the Tower, how he's working for Stark as a consultant, or how he's thriving as an Avenger - a position he fought hard against when Fury and Phil had first suggested it. Phil has a new team now and all the news he hears are from snippets of conversations he overhears in the cafeteria or offhand comments made by Hill and Sitwell in senior staff meetings. Fury and Natasha never once break Phil's unspoken request to know nothing, which should have flagged Phil from the beginning. 

Phil moves on. Phil does his job. Phil continues to ignore the gaping hole in his heart that wasn't caused by an alien weapon.

~^~

Phil draws the line when he learns that Hawkeye has been in an unexplained coma for over a week as he's waiting in line for an Americano at Starbucks.

He bursts into Fury's office, filled with a righteous indignation that he no longer has the right to feel. 

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Phil demands. "I had to learn about it from fucking NBC that my asset may be dying?"

Fury doesn't flinch under Phil’s glare. "He hasn't been your asset in over a year, Phil, and there was no other reason to inform you of his status."

"That's not fair," Phil argues. He tells himself that he can't possibly have let things get this far. 

"Isn't it?" Fury fires back. "You think no one, especially Barton, has noticed how completely you've wiped him from your life? Do you think he's going to appreciate knowing that the only fucking consideration you've given him in months is because you were pissed about hearing it on the local news?"

"I..." Phil starts to speak and then stops when he realizes he doesn't know what he would have said. 

"That's what I thought," Fury sighs. "Now really isn't the time, Phil, no matter what the movies try to tell us. Barton is going to survive whatever the fuck this is because it's what he does. After, well...that's up to you and him, I guess. Loki was traumatizing for all of us, more so for you two. Just, as his friend, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't fuck Clint up even more, okay? That and Romanov will probably kill you this time."

"Will you keep me posted on his condition?" Phil requests, knowing it's senseless to argue and that he needs the time Nick is giving him to think this through. 

"No," Fury answers. "You haven't earned that."

~^~

Hawkeye survives and Phil hacks into the medical database to keep tabs on his recovery. He stops short of hacking into the SHIELD database, but still learns that the coma was the result of some other dimension needing Barton's soul to win a war.

When Phil finally works up the courage to talk to Clint, he goes, not to the Tower or Stark Industries, but to the Boys and Girls Club because Phil remembers that, on the short list of people Clint never wants to disappoint, 'his kids' are near the top. He also wants to make it very clear to Clint that this visit has nothing to do with SHIELD or the Avengers.

Phil waits nervously at the bottom of the stairs, waving back at the few older kids who still remember Phil from the few occasions he’d helped Clint out at the club. He doesn’t know why this feels so much more difficult than pulling the Destroyer gun out of the weapons locker until Phil sees Clint for the first time in close to a year. There is an overwhelming sense of relief at seeing Clint looking healthy and happy, followed by a crushing guilt when the archer’s expression immediately shutters upon seeing Phil.

“Agent Coulson,” Clint nods, eyes flicking behind Phil in search of official SHIELD vehicles even though Phil is in jeans and a t-shirt, his leather jacket only slightly less battered than the one Clint is wearing.

“Hi Clint,” Phil greets and Clint’s expression flickers in surprise. “I was hoping you had time to join me for a cup of coffee.”

Clint’s eyes go wary, but he doesn’t immediately reject the idea. “Why?”

“Because we used to be friends,” Phil says after a deep breath. “And I’m really hoping we were good enough friends that it’s worth trying to salvage the remnants of what we once had.”

“Okay,” Clint responds, eyes still wary, and motions toward the nearby coffee shop they used to frequent.

“My SHIELD therapists think I’ve made a breakthrough,” Phil says once they’re seated in the corner with their coffee cups between them. “With everything that happened with Loki, you were the one thing that I really lost. They think I let it happen because I was punishing myself for failing you.”

“How the fuck did you fail me?” Clint asks, genuinely confused.

“I let him take you and I couldn’t get you back,” Phil admits, the words easier to say now after hours of sessions with the therapists since Clint’s coma.

“What the hell, Phil? He stabbed you through the fucking chest. He _killed_ you and you think you failed _me_?” Clint sounds almost angry and Phil can’t help feeling a little better because of it.

Phil shrugs. “I didn’t say it was well-placed guilt, but it is still guilt. I know you Clint. I know what Loki did to you was worse than if he’d stabbed you through the chest. I turned my back on you because I didn’t know where to begin apologizing.”

“Guilt fucking sucks,” Clint agrees, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “You realize this wasn’t one sided, right? You turned your back, but I’m the one who walked away.”

Phil raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You really think you could have gone anywhere if I hadn’t wanted you to?”

Clint’s grin feels like absolution as he leans back with a fond shake of his head. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, Phil.”

“I’ve missed you too, Clint,” Phil smiles back. “So we’re...not okay, not yet...but agree to work on it?”

“Yeah,” Clint replies, leaning forward again. “I just lived an entire lifetime in two weeks and, between that and this one, I’ve seen too many friends die to let a good one walk away. I was gonna stop by your office the next time I was at HQ.”

Phil leans closer in concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah, maybe later,” Clint offers. “Tell me how your year’s been. How’s your new team?”

~^~

Several months later, Phil knocks on Clint’s door and isn’t surprised to find him looking frazzled with his hair still wet from the shower. The time since their four hours together at the coffee shop have been good - different, but good. Better than before Loki, if Phil thinks honestly about it, because they’ve now restarted their friendship on equal footing.

“Sorry, sorry,” Clint apologizes, letting Phil into his room/apartment at the Tower. “We got called out to fight -”

“Killer gerbils in Chicago,” Phil finishes for him. “I heard.”

“Giant killer gerbils,” Clint corrects as he shuts the door behind Phil.

“I wonder what...”

Phil turns to look at Clint and his brain completely derails. Clint must have jumped out of the shower to answer the door. The archer’s skin is still damp and he’s wearing nothing but a towel slung low over his hips. Phil has always acknowledged on a very basic level that Clint is good looking, that he has a beautiful body sculpted by years of hard work. Maybe Phil had been desensitized by seeing the man in various degrees of nakedness over countless missions - often under the worst circumstances - but he has never looked at Clint’s body with anything other than professional detachment.

Today, however, Phil is feeling nothing near professional detachment as he looks over every inch of exposed skin. He does nothing to hide his appraisal or sudden arousal and by the time Phil tears his gaze away from Clint’s chest, the archer’s eyes are wide with surprise.

“Oh,” Clint says softly. “I never thought you were...before...”

“I’m not. At least I’ve never...” Phil responds, eyes slipping back down to Clint’s abs and the small amount of hair that trails down to the towel and below. “I’ve never had anything specifically against it either.”

“Maybe I should put on some clothes,” Clint says.

Phil makes an involuntary noise of protest that he should probably be embarrassed about, but he’s too busy wondering what Clint would do if Phil followed that trail with his tongue.

“Or not,” Clint recants with a smile in his voice. 

Phil gives himself a mental shake and looks back up to meet Clint’s eyes.

“I’ve always needed a pretty strong emotional connection with someone to feel any kind of sexual attraction,” Phil explains. “I’ve never had that with another man and I think I may have been automatically filtering you out because we worked together.”

“Oh...I get that,” Clint says, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, drawing Phil’s gaze to his shoulders and arms. “The filtering part, I mean. I had to turn that off pretty quick after you became my handler.”

“Turn it off?” Phil asks, stepping closer. He watches in fascination as Clint swallows heavily, throat working under the corded muscles of his neck.

“Uh...yeah,” Clint responds. “I didn’t think you would appreciate my having a hardon every time I got near you and I assumed you didn’t...uh...swing that way.”

Phil hums and places his hand on Clint’s toned stomach. The muscles underneath his hand jump and the towel twitches as Clint sucks in a sharp breath.

“Okay. Definitely turned back on,” Clint says and then winces at the pun. 

Phil smiles and leans forward, but Clint wraps gentle fingers around Phil’s wrist and takes a half step backward.

“I want this,” Clint assures him. “ _God_ , do I want this. But if we do this, I want it to mean more than just us scratching an itch. I want it to mean...everything. You...you’ve always meant more to me than I planned on and I don’t think...no, I know I can’t survive this if we’re not looking for the same thing.”

Phil doesn’t reply right away, taking the time that Clint’s words deserve to absorb them properly, but in the end, there is only one answer Phil can give.

“I want everything too,” Phil says and his heart soars at the absolute joy that radiates from Clint at his response. He turns his hand and weaves their fingers together. “I agree that we should probably take things a little slower. Go get dressed so I can kiss you with slightly less temptation to do more.”

Clint grins, squeezes Phil’s fingers, and disappears into his bedroom.

~^~

"Fuuuuck," Clint moans. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

Phil just grins in response, sucking in a gasp as he pulls back and then slides himself deeper into Clint. Clint moans again, arching up to meet Phil's thrusts as Phil wraps a hand around the younger man's cock and twists the way he knows drives Clint crazy. 

They've learned a lot about each other over the past few months, both in and out of the bedroom, but this is the first time they're taking this final step. Phil knows he'll never tire of being sheathed inside Clint's searing heat and watching the man he loves writhe with pleasure beneath him. 

Phil wants this first time to last, but it's impossible with Clint being so vocal and just how good it feels for them to finally come together like this. He feels the tell-tale signs of his impending orgasm and speeds up the movement of his hand. 

"God, _Phil_...I'm gonna...I can't..." Clint's voice sounds wrecked and Phil loses his last tenuous hold on his control. 

" _Fuck_ , I love you. Clint!" Phil cries out, hips stuttering as he goes over the edge.

"Phil!" Clint responds, his spine curving like a bow and his body clenching almost impossibly tight around Phil. 

Phil's vision whites out and he collapses onto Clint. It takes a long time for both of their breaths to even out. 

"Jesus...that was..."

"Knew you had it in you," Clint says, patting Phil's back like he's one of the kids back at the club hitting his first target. 

Phil laughs and rolls off Clint, staggering to the bathroom on still shaky legs to get a washcloth to clean them up with. He finishes up, drops the cloth onto the floor, and settles back in the bed next to Clint. Phil pulls Clint into his arms with a contented sigh, unable to keep from taking stock of his current state.

Phil is deliriously happy with Clint. He'd always known that they got along better with each other than most people, but he'd never imagined it could lead to this. Phil can't imagine living the rest of his life without Clint as his friend, his lover, his everything, and he tries not to think about how close he came to losing it all. 

"Thinking too much again," Clint mumbles into his shoulder and then props himself up on his elbow to look down at Phil. "What is it?"

"I love you," Phil responds. They'd said their mutual ‘I love yous’ several weeks back because Phil wanted to avoid the cliche of saying it for the first time during sex. 

“I love you too,” Clint says with a happy smile. “But you know that already, so what has your mind going a hundred miles a minute right now?”

“I...” Phil starts to reply and then says what’s really on his mind. “Marry me.”

Clint’s eyes go wide and his jaw drops.

“It’s not abrupt,” Phil argues quickly. “We’ve known each other for years and, if you think about it, we’ve essentially been dating since that first cup of coffee. I...I love you, Clint. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.”

“This isn’t just about you avoiding the extra paperwork of adding me back as your medical proxy?” Clint asks shyly.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Phil replies honestly, “but no. This is about my wanting to marry you. This is about my wanting to tell people that you're my husband. This is about my wanting to wear a ring that tells the world that I’m yours. I love you. We both know that life is too short and I see no reason to wait when I know what I want.”

“Okay,” Clint says.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” Clint answers hesitantly and then again with more confidence. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I’ll be your husband and yes, I want everyone to know you’re mine. I love you, Phil. I can’t believe you asked me while we’re naked, but yes, I’ll marry you.”

Phil pulls Clint down for a kiss. It’s not their best effort considering they’re both laughing, but it’s enough.

~^~

Phil and Clint both change after the Battle of Manhattan and the future has never looked brighter.

_fin_


End file.
